


All the way

by Captain_Jowl



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Prison Sex, Rimming, canon compliant porn, marital bliss in prison, post s9, slight diss of trevor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Jowl/pseuds/Captain_Jowl
Summary: "Yeah, all we did was bang!""We laughed too."During their time in prison Mickey finds out about that one thing Ian hasn't tried yet and he's determined to show him a good time. Because there are only so many things you can do together in prison.or: Ian and Mickey are in their 'marital bliss' period in prison - laughing, having happy sex and annoying the shit out of Enzo.Great translation in Russian from the great Jane McArrow: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9829989.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 68
Kudos: 450





	All the way

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still pissed that we didn't get to see their, quoting Cam, 'marital bliss', and an overall lack of prison sex fics upsets me. And when I'm upset I write porn. So...here, have some porn :D
> 
> P. S. Thanks, Dee <3

The hour before the lights get turned off for the night is always the longest. They are already locked in their cell but can’t fuck yet. Not that they are bothered by the possibility of someone seeing them. It just kinda kills the mood when they have to pause for the evening count.

So they talk. And laugh.

They laugh _a lot_.

Ian has always thought that Mickey is funny, but his stories about Mexico are straight up hilarious. He tells about the most dangerous shit he got himself into in such a way, all sharp tongued and humorous, that makes Ian cry with laughter. In his turn, Mickey is in stitches every time he listens about Ian’s impressively ridiculous shenanigans during the time they were apart. Although Mickey’s sense of humor is questionable, Ian still enjoys seeing him relaxed and happy like that. Enzo probably hates their guts.

Neither of them knows how they ended up talking about it one evening, but they are sprawled on the bottom bunk, ready for bed, as Mickey gets on with his interrogation:

“So you’re saying you let yourself be talked into bottoming for this dude?”

“Well, yeah... I mean, I kinda wanted to…” Ian lies on his back, as close to a starfish position as the narrow bed allows, staring at the underside of the top bunk. His hair is still damp from the shower, creating a wet spot under his head.

“You, the biggest ass man on the Southside?” says Mickey and looks up from the paper he is doodling on. “Bullshit you wanted to.”

Ian chuckles. “He promised that I could fuck him after,” he shrugs with a smirk.

“Horndog,” Mickey teases. He eyes Ian for a bit. “With a plastic dick?”

“With a plastic dick,” confirms Ian with a little sigh. He keeps staring upwards before realizing that Mickey went quiet. Looking up he catches a suspiciously dreamy expression on his boyfriend’s face. “Hey! Are you seriously thinking about getting fucked with a strap-on?” he demands with a frown.

“Dunno whatcha talking about,” says Mickey with a grin and puts both of his hands up in a placating gesture. Ian rolls his eyes and lies down again.

Mickey goes back to scribbling on his paper but keeps sneaking glances at Ian; he tries to not let the worry overtake him since Ian looks more thoughtful than sad. Still, he gives in after a couple of minutes and nudges Ian’s thigh with his foot.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” Ian shakes his head. Then shrugs again. “Not really? I guess it always hurts a little?”

He looks at Mickey for confirmation and the older boy nods: 

“Shouldn’t be painful if you do it right but it burns like a motherfucker sometimes, ‘specially if you’ve never had anything thicker than your own thumb in your ass before.”

“Never had anything in my ass,” Ian grumbles. _Not that I remember_. _That doesn’t count._ He doesn’t say it. Mickey knows.

Mickey’s eyebrows go high on his forehead. “Never fingered yourself?”

“Nope, never.”

“Hm.”

They go quite again, Ian jiggling his leg and Mickey giving the finishing touches to Ian’s abs on his portrait. Someone is yelling a couple of cells down the corridor and Enzo’s snores are coming through the vent. After a minute Mickey finally puts his drawing down and goes to relieve himself.

“Did you like it?” he questions as he opens the buttons of his jumpsuit to take his dick out. 

“Huh?” asks Ian, startled from floating in his own little world.

“Did you like bottoming for him?” Mickey repeats.

Ian rolls on his side and watches Mickey flush the toilet and wash his hands.

“I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. “I certainly didn’t like getting fucked. And Trev… he was kinda…” He waves his hand in the air, searching for the right words. “Like his goal was not to have sex with me but to prove a point, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Mickey suppresses yet another twinge of jealousy and sits down next to Ian. He knows his boyfriend and he knows that he expects some deep emotional response from every one night stand he has, let alone from the dude he went as far as calling each other boyfriends with. “You wanted a Prince Charming to pluck your rose, but instead you got your asshole broken in by a plastic dick.”

“Fuck you,” Ian punches him in the shoulder, pretending to glare, but still chuckles when he says: “Yeah, pretty much describes it. Don’t want a dick in my ass ever again.” He pauses. “But…” Stops.

“But?” Mickey asks. He watches as Ian blushes then shrugs with a small smile. He grins. “So there was something you liked then, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Ian mumbles, embarrassed about the turn of the conversation for some reason.

“Oh, you gonna make me spell it out for you, I see,” Mickey rolls his eyes. “You didn’t like getting fucked but you discovered your sweet spot and you loved it. Am I right?” He can’t stop grinning and Ian catches up on his teasing mood, flips him off, then shrugs again.

“I guess?” he answers and tugs at the strings of the bed sheet.

There are steps in the corridor. They both turn their heads to see the guard looking at them through the door, making sure they are in their cell. Mickey waves at him coyly, making Ian laugh while the man shakes his head and continues with the count.

“How did it feel?” asks Mickey after a second and it is Ian’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“Did you forget how it feels? Need me to remind you?” He grabs at his dick through the boxers and smirks at Mickey.

“Fuck off. I wanna know how it felt for you.”

Ian lets go off his crotch and puts his eyes down, his cheekbones getting pink again.

“It felt like… like this moment right before you come, you know? But it goes on and on… just the waves, one after another. It feels so good that you’re barely conscious if the dick hits it repeatedly.”

Ian turns his gaze back to Mickey and sees him biting his lip. They share a charged look and Ian moves into Mickey’s space, crawling over him as Mickey lies down to make it comfortable for Ian to get on top.

“I understand why you love that shit now,” says Ian, nuzzling into the crook of Mickey’s neck.

Mickey puts his arms around him and just breathes for some time, enjoying the warmth of Ian’s body.

“You wanna feel it again?” he then asks.

“Mmm, not really in the mood for bottoming tonight, Mick,” purrs Ian between planting lingering kisses on Mickey’s neck.

“Not asking if you want me to top you, Gallagher,” says Mickey with a smile and runs his hands up and down Ian's sides slowly. “I'm asking if you wanna feel it again.”

Ian hums. “Yeah, I guess I wanna. But I want to fuck you more, before the meds knock me out…” He pauses to bite at his boyfriend’s shoulder, never running out of the affection he has for Mickey, wanting to touch and kiss and bite him all the time.

Mickey pushes him to the side and tugs at his tank top.

“Take your clothes off. Wanna do something for you.”

Ian frowns in disappointment but complies. He has learned better than to turn down Mickey’s ideas – they always result in something… pleasant.

The lights go out as they undress. Mickey kicks the blanket off the bed and tips Ian onto his back after they both get completely naked. He steals a lingering kiss and kicks Ian’s ankles apart. Ian laughs and spreads his thighs to let Mickey settle between them and trail kisses down his stomach.

They are doing it a lot lately – happy and joyful fucking, bodies thrumming with excited energy, lips smiling and eyes glinting. (Mickey once almost punched Enzo when he said that they were in a honeymoon phase.)

Right now Ian is more curious than turned on, so Mickey spits in his palm and starts stroking Ian’s half hard dick with one hand, slowly rubbing his thigh with another.

“Shit, that’s good,” murmurs Ian and relaxes against the pillow, eyes closed. It doesn’t take long for him to grow harder in Mickey’s hand, it never does. Mickey leans down and swirls his tongue over the sensitive tip, adding a slick teasing sensation alongside with the tight-gripped handjob. Ian hisses through a blissed-out smile, losing himself in the way his body feels.

Ian smells like prison soap and arousal, and Mickey hums, grinding his groin against the thin mattress. He licks all over the shaft of his cock, letting the spit dribble down, wraps his lips around the tip, bobs his head several times, then licks again. Ian groans, enjoying the sloppiness of it all. He tries and fails to spread his long legs wider on the tiny bottom bank and Mickey helps him, grasping him under the knees and pushing his legs back. Ian catches on and reaches to hold onto his own thighs to keep himself in a folded position. 

Mickey goes lower, mouths at Ian’s balls for some time, alternating between fat licks and suckling on the thin skin as Ian sighs. His hands wander, sliding over Ian’s slick dick, scratching at the insides of his thighs and squeezing his ass. Ian shudders and then gasps as Mickey suddenly delivers a slap to his ass cheek.

“Gimme the pillow,” he orders. He puts his head up and grins, seeing his boyfriend all spread out for him, legs in the air. What a sight.

“There’s gonna be a wet spot,” Ian warns him.

“Don’t care,” Mickey answers with an eye roll. As if he can’t turn it on the other side afterwards.

“Whatever,” Ian says and snatches the pillow from under his head. “You’re the one sleeping on it, not me.”

Mickey doesn’t dignify it with a response. He gets Ian to lift his hips and shoves the pillow under his ass. Settling on his stomach again, he pushes the redhead’s thighs apart greedily. Elevated by the pillow, Ian’s ass is right where Mickey wants it. He can’t really admire the view in the darkness of the cell, so he doesn’t waste any time, delivering a fond wet lick to the almost-virgin hole of his boyfriend.

Ian flinches and gasps, gripping his legs harder. It’s not that Ian didn’t understand where everything was leading to or that they haven’t done it before (he has a vague memory of Mickey bending him over and putting his mouth on him one night, after they returned from the Fairy Tale drunk and high as fuck). Still, Mickey eating him out is a rare occasion and he is not at all used to it. He feels exposed and kind of dirty as Mickey spreads his ass cheeks apart and circles his rim with a dry fingertip. His hole is twitching from a foreign sensation and he lets out a surprised moan when Mickey repeats the motion using the very tip of his tongue, slowly. Ian fully expected Mickey to go hard in his usual rough manner but his boyfriend is being gentle to him, peppering kisses over the inner sides of his cheeks and delivering soft kitten licks at his entrance. He feels like floating away and melting into the mattress at the same time.

His legs start trembling from the position he has to hold himself in and Mickey wraps his hands around Ian’s knees, encouraging him to rest his legs on his shoulders. Ian settles his ankles along Mickey’s shoulder blades with a soft exhale, finally able to relax and sink both hands into the bed sheets to ground himself. Mickey gets himself comfortable again and goes back to soft teasing licks, making Ian wiggle his hips, chasing his tongue.

“Fuck, Mick, come on,” he swears with a smile.

Mickey chuckles because Ian is the biggest tease on the planet and it is pretty satisfying to get him back for once. However, Mickey has a different goal, so he caves and licks up and down Ian’s crack, warm and sloppy. Ian sighs and bites at his bottom lip. His dick, his ballsack and now his ass crack is slick with spit as Mickey gets to fully lapping at his rim. The wet sound that reaches his ears is fucking sinful. It secretly turns him on so much that Mickey doesn’t care about getting filthy in bed. His boyfriend will get flustered from praise or simple dirty-talk, but he is not afraid of getting saliva and precum all over his chin and cheeks if it means they can have fun. Fucking hot.

Mickey’s hands slide over Ian’s shins and thighs, up and down, and settle on his hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin there. The mix of tenderness and filth makes Ian whimper and push his ass into Mickey’s face. Mickey makes a satisfied noise and stiffens his tongue, spearing it past the twitching entrance, licking his way into him. That gets a surprised moan out of Ian. With the way the evening started he surely didn’t expect tonight to be the day when Mickey decided to lay him out and literally make out with his asshole. He is so wrapped up in the dizzying sensation of Mickey licking inside him that he doesn’t notice one hand leaving his hip, until there is a finger probing at his hole alongside Mickey’s tongue.

Ian is _tight_. That is the first thing Mickey notices as he pulls back and slides a finger right in, two knuckles deep. Ian goes a little stiff and hisses, his hips arching off the bed.

“Shhh, that’s it,” Mickey murmurs as he lets Ian get used to the feeling of being breached. “Such a tight, pretty hole,” he smiles. Usually, he is not the type for praises and compliments in bed, but Ian looks so adorably distressed by a single finger inside of him, he feels the need to comfort him. Ian blushes from his words and relaxes, his insides fluttering around Mickey’s digit. Mickey pets his hipbone until he lowers his ass back on the pillow.

“Okay?” he asks.

Ian nods and sighs as Mickey starts thrusting his finger shallowly, keeping an eye for any signs of discomfort on Ian’s face. He puts his lips against his boyfriend’s tense thigh. He doesn’t bite like Ian usually does when he fingers him. Instead, he just covers his skin in kisses, distracting him from the unusual feeling.

Mickey doesn’t know where it came from, but he has the urge to be gentle tonight. There were enough times in Ian’s life when he has been used and taken advantage of. Mickey wonders if that ex-boyfriend of his considered it when he pegged him for the first time. It doesn’t mean that Ian is a tender flower who can’t handle a little bit of roughness in bed. Hell, sometimes they get into it so violently, they end up with bruises all over both of their bodies. Still, this is what Ian needs sometimes – being taken care of.

Ian feels Mickey’s gentle mood; he reaches to rest one of his hands over Mickey’s on his hip and intertwines their fingers. It is grounding. His eyes have been closed the whole time – there are only so many things he can concentrate on at the same time, and looking at Mickey is not a priority when there is a finger moving inside of him. Although it is still unfamiliar and weird, the combination of his legs being propped up on Mickey’s strong shoulders and his ass lifted and played with gets him pleasantly flustered.

His lips part with a gasp as Mickey leans in again and licks at his rim that is stretched around the finger. There are more gasps when Mickey withdraws the digit and presses two fingertips against the softness of Ian’s opening, rubbing at it and slowly pushing both fingers in to the first knuckle. There is a soft burn to it this time. It is nothing compared to a dick in his ass though, so Ian twists the bed sheets in his free hand and breathes through it, his erection flagging.

It doesn’t last long as Mickey starts mouthing at the skin stretched taut around his knuckles again. He spreads the very tips of his fingers in Ian’s hole and licks at him, as if trying to work his tongue in between them. The wet push of it is completely obscene and Ian can’t help a lustful moan. He is slick with spit, inside and outside; Mickey’s fingers in him are covered with saliva too. It is sloppy and messy and hot as fuck and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“ _Shit_ , Mickey…” he mewls and his boyfriend groans against him in answer. It stirs a flame in his groin, and when Mickey slowly works two slick fingers deeper in him, his head falls back against the mattress.

Mickey doesn’t push too deep. He doesn’t need to, for what he plans on doing. Pulling away and sitting back, he twists his hand until his palm is facing the top bunk and curls his fingers forward, searching for Ian’s pleasure point. They’ve never done it before and his fingers are not familiar with Ian’s body, so he explores, his movements slow and methodical – he knows exactly what he is looking for. Who knows it better than a person who could win Olympics in fingerfucking, if there was such a category? (Mickey doesn’t think it really matters that most of his fingerfucking experience consists of him fingering himself. A skill is a skill.)

There is a slight flutter to Ian’s breathing and Mickey smiles as he feels that the pads of his fingertips are resting right over the bump of his prostate. He pushes his fingers up and gives it a sure stroke.

Immediately, Ian’s upper body shoots up from the bed, eyes flying open, thighs tensing around Mickey’s head. 

“Oh my god,” Ian gasps louder than he probably intended to.

“Lie the fuck down,” Mickey laughs and puts a palm on his taut stomach, pressing him down. “Try not to wake up the whole block, ‘kay?”

Ian falls back with a huff. “Easy for you to say,” he grumbles but nods when Mickey raises his eyebrows at him.

Satisfied, Mickey sits back to get into a more stable position, hoisting Ian’s legs even higher with his shoulders in the process. That gets Ian to let out one more gasp that turns into a soft hiss when Mickey hooks his fingers to rub at his sweet spot again.

Mickey leaves his hand on Ian’s stomach, alternating between scratching through the trail of red hair under his navel and just resting it there in a comforting gesture.

It’s pretty obvious at that point but Mickey still wants to make sure he isn’t hurting him.

“Okay?” he asks and delivers a kiss to the inside of his boyfriend’s calf.

“Yes, fuck,” Ian pants, eyes squeezed shut again.

Mickey doesn't scissor his fingers or thrust deeper as he would if he was prepping Ian for something bigger. Instead, he goes slow, stroking and rubbing, fingers curled in a come hither motion. He knows how much sharper and concentrated the pleasure is when you take your time arousing the nerves, making the blood rush and the excitement flare up. He knows it pretty well and he wants to give that to Ian.

The sensation has Ian digging his fingertips into the thin mattress. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that he is flushed all over – he can feel the heat of his skin, all over his chest and shoulders, at the back of his neck and at the tips of his ears. He always gets like that after a round of giving it to Mickey good and hard, as they both like it; only now he doesn’t have to move a muscle. His cock is hard again, straining against his stomach as an evidence of Mickey’s fingers doing their magic inside him. Ian unclenches one hand from the sheets and reaches between his legs to give himself a few strokes.

A couple of moments later, Mickey’s palm glides down his stomach and joins his hand on his dick. Ian lets him take over and Mickey is working him, twisting his wrist over and over, to the point when he has to bite his inner cheek not to alarm the guards nearby that he is getting fingered _and_ jerked off at the same time by his incredible fucking boyfriend.

Mickey stops too soon for Ian to get closer to some kind of relief. He opens his mouth to protest but his breath hitches as Mickey’s hand slides lower to fondle his balls. His knuckles glide over the rarely touched skin right behind his ball sack, firmer and firmer with every stroke, massaging his perineum. His cock leaks from the double stimulation, and Ian feels his toes curling against Mickey’s back.

“It– _oh fuck_ … it feels so good,” Ian’s voice sounds unusually high-pitched, wavering from pleasure.

Mickey bites his lip, looking at Ian’s blissed out smile. It is sexy as fuck and Mickey is hard as fuck, but he is not worried about his own dick right now. He knows that it is probably a bit petty, but he wants to show Ian how good it is when you are having sex with a person who cares, to show that he can still discover new things without having to compromise his sexual preferences. Even more than that, he simply wants to make Ian feel amazing because he loves him. 

Ian parts his lips with a moan, then another one, his belly trembling – the signs of him getting close. Mickey doesn’t want it to end too soon, make Ian come too fast, so he eases off his prostrate, pumping both fingers for a few seconds to bring him down, then goes back to it. He does it a few times; pausing when Ian gets to the edge, circling his fingertips right around the place Ian wants him most, drawing it out for him, letting it build and build.

Ian gets loud, his moans so sweet, Mickey has a feeling that if he kissed him right now he would taste sugar. He is a mess in front of him, flushed and fidgeting, hips bucking, trying to ride his fingers. His face is open and vulnerable for Mickey, eyebrows high, as if he is surprised by the way his body reacts.

Mickey increases the intensity of the pressure over time, and soon Ian’s body is rocking back and forth with the momentum as he is getting fingerbanged towards the heavens. Ian’s legs fall from Mickey’s shoulders, and he bends them on the bunk, hugging Mickey with his thighs. His cock is jumping and dribbling precum with each jolt, and Mickey wonders if he can make him come just like that. When Ian makes a move to touch himself, Mickey contemplates slapping his hand away, but then he sees him hesitating, seemingly just as curious as Mickey is.

“Don’t,” Mickey says and punctuates it with an especially electrifying jab of his fingers.

Ian listens and grips the edge of the bunk instead. He is letting out quiet, soft whines, looking strung out and desperate for relief. Mickey keeps an unfaltering rhythm, building the tension, and after a couple of minutes his boyfriend opens his eyes and looks right at him.

“Coming,” Ian manages, his legs trembling on both sides of him, eyes wide. “Oh god, Mick… I’m fuckin’ coming…”

“Fuck yeah, come on,” Mickey murmurs.

He leans forward, bracing himself on an elbow, and gently cups the side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. He knows that Ian wants to be kissed – he always, always does – so he presses their lips together with a smile. Ian twitches and spasms around his fingers pumping away inside him, and then he is coming, hard and long, making tiny, sweet sounds against Mickey’s lips, drowning in aftershocks.

Ian shakes against him even after he stops. Mickey rubs at his sternum, trying to ease him through his spasms, but then he can’t wait anymore. He wraps a hand around his own cock and jerks himself off, fast and rough. It has been a long wait and the release is explosive; he grunts and comes all over Ian’s groin, some of it getting in Ian’s ginger pubic hair and on his softening dick, some trickling down to his ass crack when Mickey withdraws his fingers and topples down.

They lie there for a long moment, just breathing against each other, coming down from the high they both reached, until Ian breaks the silence.

“I came _so_ fuckin’ hard,” he slurs in disbelief and lets out a little happy laugh. He turns his head and looks at Mickey, who looks back at him, just as dazed and satisfied. “I didn’t know… I…I just came hands-free? Didn’t know I could…”

“Just hafta do it right,” Mickey says. “And long enough. Trust me, I know,” he smirks. Ian is flushed beautifully and Mickey kisses the tip of his rosy ear. There are too many ‘firsts’ that his boyfriend had without him, and he is pleased as fuck that he got to give Ian this one.

They are sleepy and slow when they finally make an effort to put themselves together. Mickey drags his feet to the sink to get some toilet paper for the mess they’ve made, and Ian lifts his hips lazily, barely high enough to tug the pillow from under his ass. 

There is a giant wet spot on it as he predicted. They both look at it, then look at each other. 

“Told you,” Ian says with a smug grin.

“Fuckin’ Nostradamus,” answers Mickey, cracking them both up.

“Will you ever stop fucking and giggling like teenage girls and let people sleep?” shouts Enzo through the vent and bangs on the shared wall of their cells.

“Bitch, shut your fu- _mmhm_!“ Ian manages to put a hand over Mickey’s mouth to stop him from shouting back and making the guard come check on them. He laughs at Mickey’s glare and shakes his head.

“Can we just go to sleep? ‘m tired,” he pleads and moves to retrieve his boxers from where they were thrown at the end of the bunk. 

A shade of usual worry passes over Mickey’s face, before he shakes it off and covers them both with the blanket. He prepares to turn into their usual spooning position, but Ian stops him and lays his head on Mickey’s chest, tugging at his arm until he wraps it around him. Mickey smiles, figuring that Ian must be feeling clingy after an experience like he’s just had.

“It was better,” Ian murmurs suddenly. “Better than with...with him.”

“Cool,” Mickey says, trying to appear indifferent while his heart jumps in his chest. They lie in silence for several seconds, before he caves and asks quietly: “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Ian nods and kisses his shoulder. “So, so much. Still wanna fuck you in the morning though,” he says through a deep yawn.

“Okay, tough guy,” Mickey chuckles and ruffles Ian’s hair. He wants to say something else, maybe something funny or something soft, but Ian is already asleep. His face is peaceful, small breaths coming out of his slightly parted lips.

Mickey hugs him closer and closes his eyes. For the umpteenth time in the last several months he thinks that he is right where he is supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> They were probably fucking so much in the beginning... poor Enzo.


End file.
